Watson and Holmes
by show your inner slytherin
Summary: (fem Watson!) Jolie Watson comes back from Afghanistan meets Sherlock Holmes, the worlds First and only Consulting detective. The next day, she is dragged into a murder case. Will her opinion of our faveorite Sociopath stay the same or will she warm to the idea of living with him?
1. Chapter 1

AN: Constructive criticism is well received and I will take ideas/opinions into account.

The first case.

"How's your blog going?"

"Yeah, good. Very good"

"You haven't written a word have you?"

"You just wrote 'still has trust issues' "

"And you read my writing upside down. You see what I mean? Jolie, you're a soldier. It's gonna take you a while to adjust to civilian life. And writing a blog about everything that happens to you will honestly help you."

I sighed "nothing happens to me"

A while later

"Jolie. Jolie Watson." I turned round "Stamford, Mike Stamford."

"Mike yes Mike sorry"

"Yea I know, I got fat. I heard you were abroad somewhere getting shot at. What happened?"

"Got shot"

"Are you still at Bart's then?" I asked.

"Teaching now, yeah. Bright young things like we used to be. God I hate them. What about you, just staying in town while you get yourself sorted?"

"I can't afford London on an army pension"

"Ah, you couldn't bear to be anywhere else. That's not the Jolie Watson I know."

"Yeah, I'm not that Jolie Watson"

"Couldn't Harry help?"

I scoffed "Yeah, like that's gonna happen"

"you could get a flat share"

"yea, who would want me as a flatmate… what?"

"You're the second person to say that to me today."

"Who's the first?"

"Mike, can I borrow your phone? There's no signal on mine." A thin tall man said, not looking up.

"And what's wrong with the landline?"

"I prefer to text"

"Sorry, it's in my coat."

"Here, use mine." I took my phone out.

"Oh, thank you."

"She's an old friend of mine. Jolie Watson"

"Afghanistan or Iraq?"

"Sorry?" I turned slightly.

"Which was it? Afghanistan or Iraq?"

"Umm… Afghanistan. Sorry how did you..."

"Ah Molly, Coffee. Thank you. What happened to the lipstick?"

"It wasn't working for me."

"Really? I thought it was a big improvement. Mouth's too small now." He walked back to where he was previously.

"Ok" Molly walked off.

"How do you feel about the violin?"

"I'm sorry, what?" _He's just being random now_

"I play the violin when I'm thinking, sometimes I don't talk for days on end. Would that bother you? Potential flatmates should know the worst about each other." He smiled.

"Are you-? You told him about me?" I turned to Stamford.

"Not a word." he replied.

"Then who said anything about flatmates?"

"I did. Told mike this morning that I must be a difficult man to find a flatmate for. Now here he is, just out to lunch with an old friend. Clearly just home from military service in Afghanistan. Wasn't a difficult leap."

"How did you know about Afghanistan?" He obviously ignored me.

"I've got my eye on a nice little place in Central London. Together we ought to be able to afford it. We meet there tomorrow evening, seven o'clock. Sorry, got to dash. I think I left my riding crop in the mortuary." he went to leave.

"Is that it?"

"Is that what?" he turned back to me.

"We've only just met, and we're going to look at a flat."

"Problem?"

_THERE IS A BLOODY PROBLEM!_

"We don't know a thing about each other. I don't know where we're meeting. I don't even know your name." I was beginning to think he was mad.

"I know you're an army doctor and you've been invalided home from Afghanistan. I know you've got a brother who's worried about you, but you won't go to him for help because you don't approve of him—possibly because he's an alcoholic, more likely because he recently walked out on his wife. And I know that your therapist thinks your limp's psychosomatic, quite correctly I'm afraid. That's enough to be going on with, don't you think?" He left but then stuck his head back over the door "The name's Sherlock Holmes and the address is 221b Baker Street." He winked "Afternoon." When I looked at Stamford, he seemed to know what I was thinking.

"Yeah, he's always like that"

"Hello"

"Mr Holmes" I shook his hand.

"Sherlock, please" _not bloody likely._

"Well, this is a prime spot. Must be expensive."

"Mrs. Hudson the landlady is giving me a special deal. She owes me a favour. A few years back her husband got himself sentenced to death in Florida. I was able to help her out."

"So you stopped her husband from being executed?"

"Oh no. I ensured it" he smiled _WHAT!_

At that moment, the door opened. "Sherlock."

"Mrs Hudson, Dr Jolie Watson"

"Come in" Mrs Hudson smiled.

"Shall we?"

"This could be very nice" I muttered as I looked round "Very nice indeed"

"Yes, yes I think so. My thoughts precisely" Holmes agreed.

"As soon as we have this rubbish cleared up." I said.

"Obviously I could straighten things up a bit"

"That's a skull."

"Friend of mine. Well, I say friend"

"What d'you think then, Dr. Watson? There's another bedroom upstairs if you'll need two bedrooms."

"Of course we'll need two"

"Sherlock, the mess you've made" Mrs Hudson walked into the kitchen and Holmes started messing with a laptop

"I looked you up on the internet last night"

"Anything interesting?"

"Found your website 'The science of deduction' "

"What did you think?"

"You said you could identify a soft ware designer by his tie and an airline pilot by his left thumb?"

"Yes. And I could read your military career in your face and your leg and your brother's drinking habits in your phone" He was either showing off or being natural, I couldn't tell.

"How?" he just walked to the window.

"What about these suicides Sherlock? Thought it'd be right up your street. Three, exactly the same."

"Four. There's been a fourth but something's different this time."

"A fourth?" a person ran up the stairs. I recognised him as DI Lestrade.

"Where?"

"Lauriston gardens"

"What's new about this one? You wouldn't have come to get me if there wasn't something different."

"You know how they never leave notes?"

"Yea"

"This one did. Can you come?"

"Who's on forensics?"

"Anderson" Sherlock looked away

"Anderson won't work with me."

"He won't be your assistant"

"I need an assistant."

"Will you come?" Lestrade looked impatient.

"Not in a police car. I'll be right behind."

"Thank you" Lestrade walked off and when the door closed, Holmes jumped up

"Brilliant! Yes! Four serial suicides and now a note. Oh, it's Christmas. Mrs Hudson, I'll be late. Might need some food" _Mad as a hatter._

"I'm your landlady dear, not your housekeeper."

"Something cold will do. Jolie, have a cup of tea, make you at home. Don't wait up." he left. _Mad as a hatter with a sugar rush._

"Look at him, dashing about. My husband was just the same. But you're more of the 'sitting down' type, I can tell" She smiled at me.

""You're a doctor. In fact you're an army doctor." Holmes surprised me. He was stood in the doorway

"Yes" I stood up.

"Any good?"

"Very good" I replied,

"Seen a lot of injuries then. Violent deaths." _where are you going with this you madman?_

"Well. Yes"

"Bit of trouble too I bet."

"Of course. Yes. Enough for a lifetime. Far too much."

"Wanna see some more?"

"Oh god yes." we both began to walk out. _Mum always said I was unpredictable._

"Possible suicides. Four of them. There's no point sitting at home when there's finally something fun going on!"

"Look at you, all happy. It's not decent."

"Who cares about decent? The game, Mrs. Hudson, is on!" _Mad as a hatter with a sugar rush? Yes. Annoying? Yes. But who cares?_

"Ok, you've got questions." _What did you expect?_

"Yea. Where are we going?"

"Crime scene. Next."

"Who are you? What do you do?"

"What do you think?"

"Well, I'd say private detective..."

"But?"

"The police don't go to private detectives."

Holmes smiled a bit.

"I'm a consulting detective. Only one in the world. I invented the job."

"And that means?"

"It means when the police are out of their depth, which is always, they consult me."

"Police don't consult amateurs."

"When I met you for the first time, yesterday, I asked Afghanistan or Iraq, you looked surprised."

"Yes, how did you know?"

"I didn't know, I saw. Your haircut, the way you hold yourself says military. But your conversation as you entered the room — said trained at Bart's, so army doctor. Obvious. Your face is tanned, but no tan above the wrists — you've been abroad but not sunbathing. The limp's really bad when you walk, but you don't ask for a chair when you stand, like you've forgotten about it, so it's at least partly psychosomatic. That says the original circumstances of the injury were probably traumatic — wounded in action, then. Wounded in action, suntan — Afghanistan or Iraq." _Clever bugger_

"You said I had a therapist"

"You've got a psychosomatic limp. Of course you've got a therapist. Then there's your brother. Your phone — it's expensive, email enabled, MP3 player. But you're looking for a flat-share; you wouldn't waste money on this. It's a gift, then. Scratches — not one, many over time. It's been in the same pocket as keys and coins. The man sitting next to me wouldn't treat his one luxury item like this, so it's had a previous owner. The next bit's easy, you know it already."

"Engraving on the back" I was surprised that someone could observe something so well.

"Harry Watson — clearly a family member who's given you his old phone. Not your father — this is a young man's gadget. Could be a cousin, but you're a war hero who can't find a place to live. Unlikely you've got an extended family, certainly not one you're close to, so brother it is. Now, Clara — who's Clara? Three kisses says a romantic attachment. Expensive phone says wife, not girlfriend. Must've given it to him recently — this model's only six months old. Marriage in trouble, then — six months on, and already he's giving it away? If she'd left him, he would've kept it. People do sentiment. But no, he wanted rid of it — he left her. He gave the phone to you that says he wants you to stay in touch. You're looking for cheap accommodation and you're not going to your brother for help? That says you've got problems with him. You don't like his drinking." _Chatty_ I had started a list of what he was

"How do you know about the drinking?"

"Shot in the dark. Good one, though. Power connection — tiny little scuff marks around the edge. Every night he goes to plug it in and charge but his hands are shaky. You never see those marks on a sober man's phone, never see a drunk's without them. There you go, you see? You were right"

"Me? Right about what?"

"Police don't consult amateurs" _Cocky little..._

"That was... bloody amazing."

"You think so?"

"Of Course, it's extraordinary."

"That's not what people normally say"

"What do they say?"

" 'Piss off' "

"I get anything wrong?" He asked when we got out of the Taxi.

"Harry and I don't get on. Never have. Clara and Harry split up three months ago, and they're getting a divorce. And Harry is a drinker."

"Spot on then. I didn't expect to be right about everything."

"Don't get full of yourself. 'Harry' is short for Harriet." Sherlock looked a bit frustrated with himself _doesn't like it when proved wrong, even a little bit._

"Hello freak"

"I'm here to see detective inspector Lestrade."

"Why?"

"I was invited."

"Why?"

"I think he want's me to take a look."

"You know what I think don't you?"

"Always, Sally. You didn't make it home last night."

"Who's this?" sally stopped me.

"A colleague of mine Dr Watson. Dr Watson, Sergeant Sally Donovan an old friend."

"College, how do you get a College? Did he follow you home?"

"I think I'd be better if I just waited..."

"No" _Doesn't take no for an answer, unless he's the one saying it _"Anderson, here we are again."

"It's a crime scene, I don't want it contaminated. Are we clear on that?" _He's an ugly guy _.

"Quite clear. Is your wife away for long?" _Awkward!_

"Oh don't pretend you worked that out! Somebody told you"

_You bet?_

" Your deodorant told me that." _he's lost it_

"My deodorant."

"It's for men." _oh god. He never had it!_

"Well of course it's for men! I'm wearing it!"

"So is Sergeant Donovan." he sniffed "Ooh... I think it just vaporised. May I go in?"

"Now look, whatever you're implying..."

"I'm not implying anything. I'm sure Sally came round for a nice little chat, and just happened to stay over. And I assume she scrubbed your floor, going by the state of her knees." _Observant little cocky bugger._

"Well, I can safely say that your friendship with them two isn't going to get any better."

"It couldn't get any worse." Holmes smirked a bit.

"Put this on" Holmes gave me a suit

"Who's this?" Lestrade gestured to me.

"She's with me."

"Who is she?"

"She's with me"_ Frustrated for little reasons_

"Where are we?

"Upstairs, I can give you two minutes."

"May need longer."

"Her name's Jennifer Wilson, according to her credit cards, we're running them now for contact details. Hasn't been here long, some kids found her."

"Shut up." _the hell?_

"I didn't say anything."

"You were thinking. It's annoying." _Holmes, you truly are weird, I'm beginning to agree with sally._

Holmes started to 'Investigate' in his own special way. He took a few minutes till he finished.

"Got anything?"

"Not much."

"She's German." Anderson decided to speak up " 'Rache' it's German for revenge, she could be trying to tell us something."

"Yes, thank you for your input" Holmes closed the door on him.

"So she's German."

"Of course she's not, she's from out of town though. Intended to stay in London for one night before returning to Cardiff. So far, so obvious."

"Sorry. Obvious?"

"What about the message?"

"Dr Watson, what do you think?"

"About the body?"

"We have a whole team outside."

"They won't work with me"

"I'm breaking every rule letting **you **in here."

"Yes. Because you need me."

"Yes I do. God help me." one day and I'm dragged into this.

"Dr Watson?"

"Do what he says, help yourself. Anderson, keep everyone out of here for a bit." Lestrade left.

"Ok, Holmes. What am I doing here?"

"Helping me make a point."

"I'm supposed to be helping you pay the rent."

"Yeah well this is more fun."

"Fun? This is fun? There's a woman lying dead"

"Right! I said two minutes!"

Holmes gave his analysis.

"Cardiff?"

"It's obvious."

"Not to me"

"Dear God, what is it like in your funny little brains? It must be so boring."

"Holmes, I'm not afraid to punch you." I smirked.

"Her coat, it's slightly damp, she's been in heavy rain in the last few hours, no rain in London at that period of time, under her coat collar is damp to, and she's put it up against the wind. She has an umbrella in her pocket but it's dry and unused, not just wind, strong wind. Too strong to use an umbrella. from her suitcase, she was intending to stay overnight so she must have travelled a decent distance but she can't have travelled for more than two or three hours because her coat still hasn't dried, so where has there been rain and strong wind within the radius of that travel time? Cardiff"

"That's fantastic!"

"Do you know you do that out loud?"

"I'll shut up."

"Don't.. It's fine."

"Why do you keep saying 'Suitcase' ?"

"Where is it? She must have had a phone or an organiser, find out who 'Rachel' is"

"She was writing 'Rachel'?"

"No! She was writing an angry note in German! Of course she was writing 'Rachel'. No other word it can be. Question is why wait till she was dieing to write it?"

"How do you know she had a suitcase?"

"Back of her right leg, splash marks on the calf and heel, not present on the left. She was pulling a wheel suitcase with her right hand, don't get that splash-back in any other way. Smallish case, going by the spread. Case that size, woman this close, conscious, could only be an overnight bag. What have you done with it?"

"There was no case."

"Say that again."

"There wasn't a case, there was never any case."

"SUITCASE! DID ANYONE FIND A SUITCASE? WAS THERE A SUITCASE IN THIS HOUSE?" Holmes ran out of the room.

"There was no case!"

"They take the poison themselves, they chew, swallow the pills themselves. Clear signs, even you lot couldn't miss them."

"Right, yea, thanks. AND?"

"It's murder, all of them, I don't know how, but they're not suicides, they're killings, serial killings. We've got ourselves a serial killer. Love those—there's always something to look forward to."

"Why are you saying that?"

" Her case. C'mon! Where is her case, did she eat it? Someone else was here and they took her case. So the killer must have driven her here. Forgot the case was in the car"

"She could have checked into a hotel and left her case there."

"No, she never got to the hotel, look at her hair, she colour co-ordinates her lipstick and her shoes, she'd never leave any hotel with her hair still looking... serial killers are always hard, you've got to wait for them to make a mistake."

"We can't wait!"

"We're done waiting, look at her, really look. We have a mistake. Get onto Cardiff, find out that Jenifer Wilson's family and friends were, finding out who Rachel is."

"Of course but what's the mistake?"

"PINK!"

"Cos that really helps" I went down the stairs towards Holmes.

"He's gone, he does that."

"You know where I can get a cab?"

"Try the main road"

"Thanks"

"You're not his friend. He doesn't have friends. So who are you?"

"I. I only just met him."

"Okay, bit of advice then. Stay away from that guy."

"Why should I?"

"You know why he's here? He's not paid or anything. He likes it. He gets off on it. The weirder the crime the more he gets off. And you know what? One day just showing up won't be enough. One day we'll be standing around a body and Sherlock Holmes will be the one who put it there."

"He wouldn't. Why would he?"

" 'Cause he's a psychopath. Psychopaths get bored"

"DONOVAN!"

"Coming!" she walked off "Stay away from Sherlock Holmes."

When I started walking, phones near me started ringing. I eventually picked one up. "Hello?"

"There is a security camera on the building to your left. Do you see it?"

"Umm, who is this?"

"Do you see the camera, Dr Watson?"

"Yes, I do."

"watch." the camera turned "there is another camera on the building opposite, do you see it?" the other camera moved "and finally on top of the building to your right"

"How are you doing this?"

"Get into the car, Dr Watson." then the person hung up.

"Have a seat, Jolie."

"You know, I've got a phone. I mean, very clever and all that. But, ah, you could just phone me."

"When one is avoiding the attention of Sherlock Holmes one learns to be discreet. Hence this place. Your leg must be hurting you. Sit down."

"No. I don't want to."

"You're not afraid."

"You're not frightening"

"Yes. The bravery of the soldier. Bravery is by far the kindest word for stupidity don't you think? What is your connection to Sherlock Holmes?"

"I don't really have one. I met him yesterday."

"Hm and since yesterday you've moved in with him and now you're solving crimes together. Are we to expect a happy announcement by the end of the week?"

"Who the hell are you?"

"An interested Party."

"Interested in Sherlock? Why? You aren't friends"

"I am the closest thing to a friend that Sherlock Holmes is capable of having."

"That is?"

"An enemy."

"Really?"

"In his mind certainly. If you were to ask him he'd probably say his archenemy. He does love to be dramatic."

"Well thank god you're above all that"

_Baker Street. Come at once if convenient. SH_

_If inconvenient come anyway. SH_

"Do you plan to continue your association with Sherlock Holmes?"

"Maybe. But then again, that's none of your business."

"It could be"

"Not really"

"If you do move into 221B Baker Street, I'd be happy to pay you a regular sum of money."

"In exchange for?"

"Information"

"Why?"

"I worry about him, that's why."

"No"

"I haven't mentioned a figure"

"Don't have to"

"You're quick to trust."

"I'm not interested" I walked off, not wanting to talk to him anymore.

I arrived at Baker Street. Sherlock was lay on the sofa. "What are you doing?"

"Nicotine patch, helps me think. Impossible to sustain a smoking habit in London these days. Bad news for brainwork."

"But good for breathing"

" Breathing's boring."

"Three patches?"

"It's a three patch problem."

"You asked me to come here. I guess it's important"

"Can I borrow your phone? I don't want to use mine. The number might be recognised."

"Fine, I'm not even going to argue."

"Good girl."

"Is it about the suitcase?"

"Yes, murderer took her suitcase, first mistake. Watson, the number on my desk, send a text."

"wh... Fine"

"Good girl"

"And stop saying that!"

"what's wrong?"

"I just met a friend of yours."

"Friend?"

"enemy, I meant enemy"

"Which one?"

"Archenemy"

"Did he offer you money?"

"yes and I didn't take it"

"pity, we could have split it."

"who is he?"

"The most dangerous man you've ever met and not my problem right now. my desk, the number."

"Jennifer Wilson? the dead woman!"

"yes. never mind. Are you doing it?"

"Yes."

"have you done it?"

"yes."

"put these words exactly: what happened at Lauriston Gardens? I must have blacked out. 22 Northumberland Street. have you sent it?"

"yes." Holmes had a pink case. "is that her case?"

"yes, obviously. Oh perhaps I should mention I didn't kill her."

"I know you didn't kill her, I didn't listen to sally."

"what?"

"never mind. how did you get it?"

"by looking"

"fine."

"do you see what's missing?"

"her phone."

"good."

"The murderer has her phone, I just texted a murder!"

The phone rang

"Three hours since his last victim and he receives a text that can only be from her."

Holmes stood up and started to go out.

"Have you told the police?"

"Four people are dead. There isn't time to talk to the police"

"You were talking to me."

"Mrs. Hudson took my skull."

"I'm filling in for a skull?"

"Relax, you're doing great."

"I'm coming with you."

"Good. It's weird when I go with the skull, it just attracts attention."

"I bet it does." I stood up and followed him "Where we going?"

"Northumberland Street's a five minute walk from here."

"You think he's going to go there?"

"Yes, he's brilliant enough. I love the brilliant ones—they're always so desperate to get caught."

"Why?"

"Attention. Applause. At long last, the spotlight. That's the frailty of genius, Jolie. It needs an audience."

"Yea?"

"Now we know his victims were abducted, that changes everything. Who passes unnoticed wherever they go?"

"Who?"

"No clue"

I rolled my eyes,

"You're mad. Brilliant, but mad"

"Sherlock, anything on the menu, free for you and your date."

"She's not my date."

"He got me off a murder charge."

"Three years ago..."

"Holmes, lets focus. Ok?"

"Fine."

"People don't have arch enemies." I said when the Owner left.

"What?"

"In real life, nobody has archenemies."

"That's dull."

"Who did I meet?"

"What do people have? In real life?"

"Friends, people they like, dislike. Boyfriends, girlfriends. That stuff"

"Dull."

"So you don't have a girlfriend?"

"No."

"Boyfriend?"

Holmes looked at me "No. Look, Taxi, stopped. No-one getting in or out." He stood up and went out.

"Honestly!" I went and followed him "Holmes!" He almost got hit by a car "Sorry about him."

Holmes ran off "HOLMES!"

After a lot of running we caught up with the cab.

"That was ridiculous. That was the most ridiculous thing I've ever done." I laughed when we got back

"You invaded Afghanistan."

"Not on my own! Why aren't we back at the restaurant? What were we even doing there?"

"Proving a point."

"What point?"

"You. Mrs Hudson. Dr Watson will take the room upstairs"

"Says who?"

"The man at the door."

There was a knock at the door.

"You left this." It was the restaurant owner.

"Umm, thanks."

"Sherlock, what've you done?"

"Mrs Hudson?"

"Upstairs." we both ran up, Lestrade and a few others were there.

"I knew you'd find the case, I'm not stupid"

"You can't just break into my flat!"

"you can't withhold evidence, and I didn't break into your flat.!"

"well, what do you call this?"

"A drugs bust."

"Really? Holmes? Holmes?"

"Shut up!" Holmes turned away from me _Aggressive_ "I'm not your sniffer dog!"

"Anderson is"

"Wha- Anderson what are you doing here, on a drugs bust?"

"I volunteered"

"They all volunteered. they're not, strictly, on the drugs team but they were very keen"

"Are these **Human** eyes?" Sally stepped out. _Holmes? honestly?_

"Put them back!"

"They were in the microwave"

"It's an experiment."

"Keep looking guys!" Lestrade stood up "Or you could start helping us properly and I'll stand them down"

"This is childish!"

"I'm dealing with a child. This is our case, I'm letting you in, you can't just go on your own. Clear?"

"so, you set up a pretend drugs bust to bully me?!"

"It stops being pretend if we find anything."

"I am clean!"

"Is your flat? all of it?"

"I don't even smoke"

"Neither do I. So let's work together. we found Rachel."

"Who is she?!"

"Jennifer Wilson's only daughter"

"Her daughter? why would she write her daughter's name why?"

"Never mind now. We found the case! According to someone, 'the murderer has the case'. And we found it in the hands of our favourite psychopath!"

_he's not a psychopath_

"I'm not a psychopath, Anderson, I'm a high-functioning sociopath. Do your research. you need to bring her in and question her, **I** need to question her."

"She's dead"

"Is there a connection?"

"I doubt it, she was a still-born"

"that's not right, why would she do that? why?"

"why would she think of her daughter in her last moments? yep, 'Sociopath' I'm seeing it now" Anderson chimed in.

"She didn't think about her daughter, she scratched her name on the floor, with her fingernails. she was dieing! it took effort, it would have hurt."

"You said the victims took the poison themselves, that he **makes** them take it. maybe he used the death of her daughter."

"that was ages ago, why would she still be upset?"

"Holmes," i shook my head

"not good?"

"Bit not good"

"If you were dieing, what would you say?"

"Please let me live."

"Use your imagination."

"I don't have to."

"If you were clever! really clever. Jennifer Wilson, she was clever. she's trying to tell us something!"

"Isn't the doorbell working? your taxi's here" Mrs Hudson walked in

"I didn't order a taxi! Shut up everybody, shut up! Don't move, don't speak, don't breathe, I'm trying to think. Anderson, face the other way, you're putting me off."

"What? my face is?"

"Everybody quiet and still, Anderson. turn your back"

"She was clever! she's cleverer than you lot and she's **dead!** do you see? she didn't lose her phone, she planted it on the killer. when she got out of the car, she knew she was going to die. she left the phone so that it would lead us to her killer."

"But how..?"

"What do you mean 'How?' Rachel!.. don't you see? Look at you lot. You're all so vacant. Is it nice not being me? It must be so relaxing."

"Holmes.!"

"Ok, sorry Watson. Rachel is not a name! Watson, on the luggage is a label. e-mail address."

" mephone. org. uk."

"She did all her business on her phone and we have her password."

"Rachel."

"so we can read her e-mails. so what?"

" Anderson, don't talk out loud. You lower the IQ of the whole street. We can do much more than read her e-mails. it's a Smartphone, it has GPS. we can find the killer by tracking the phone."

"Sherlock, about this taxi..." Mrs Hudson muttered.

I sat down in front of the laptop.

"Jolie. where is the phone?"

"it's here"

"How?!"

"Maybe it was in the case when you brought it back. And it fell out somewhere."

"And Holmes didn't notice it?!"

"RIGHT! we're searching for a phone as well."

Holmes just stood in the middle of the room. "Holmes?. what is it?"

"who do we trust even though we don't know them? who passes unnoticed where ever they go? who hunts in the middle of a crud?"

"I don't know."

"Just getting some fresh air, won't be long."

"Umm... ok." I heard a car go "he's gone in a cab. Holmes just got in a cab and left."

"told you, he does that. we're wasting our time here!"

"I'm calling the phone, it's ringing out"

"He's a lunatic and he's wasting our time."

"Ok everybody. nothing here. why did he leave?"

"you know him better than i do." the tracker was still going by the time the 'drug team' left. when i saw where the phone was, i just got the laptop and went out.

when the cab arrived, i ran inside "Holmes? Holmes?" he had the pill in his hand and i just couldn't help it. I shot the cabbie.

_Later_

Holmes walked to me "Sergeant Donovan just explained everything to me. two pills? he gave them a choice"

"Good shot"

"Must have been"

"you'd know. Are you alright?"

"Yea, fine"

"you did just kill a man"

"yea, but.. he wasn't very nice"

"No... no, he wasn't really, was he?"

"no. he was a bloody awful cabbie"

"That's true, he was a bad cabbie. You should've seen the route he took us to get here." we started laughing a bit

"Stop it! We can't giggle at a crime scene. Stop it. you were going to take the pill weren't you?"

"No, i was waiting for you."

"no you weren't, don't lie."

"why would i lie"

"because you're an idiot."

"want dinner?"

"yea, starved"

"there's a nice place i know..."

"Holmes, that's the man i met, your archenemy."

"i know exactly who he is."

"So, another case cracked. how very public spirited."

"what are you doing here?"

"as always, I'm concerned about you."

"i know, I've heard"

"did it occur to you that we should be on the same side."

"No"

"we have more in common than you want to believe. the feud is childish. people with suffer. you know how it upset mummy" _what?_

"I upset her? me? it wasn't me who upset her Mycroft"

"wait! catch me up on this."

"this is my brother Mycroft"

"so he isn't a criminal?"

"Close enough"

"For goodness sake! I occupy a minor position in the British Government."

" He is the British Government when he's not too busy being the British Secret Services or the CIA on a freelance basis. Good evening, Mycroft. Try not to start a war before I get home, you know what it does for the traffic. Come on Watson!"

"So Holmes. What are you so happy about?"

"Moriarty."

"What?"

"No clue"

"You're mad."

"you've said that before. You also called me brilliant?"

"Shut it."

"why? i'm simply pointing out what you said."

"Well, don't"

"Opinions?"

"Pardon?"

"you've been making a mentel list of what you think i am. I am observent"

"Don't you think i know that? You'll find out soon enough."

"I know I will."


	2. Staged Murders

_**AN:**__ thanks to 'fluff' I'm glad you think that it's interesting,_

_And greensaber92, I'll try to follow an updating schedule (the only reason I didn't update sooner was because my internet went down and I had to type up this chapter.) and I will talk about what happened in between *grins*._

**Staged Murders**

_Sherlock POV_

"HOLMES, LESTRADE IS HERE!"

"I'LL BE DOWN SOON."

"Lestrade"

"Sherlock"

"What is it this time?" Watson was lent against the door frame.

"I'll tell you on the way."

"Watson, come on."

"I don't need telling." she pushed herself away from the doorframe.

The girl was lay facedown.

_Dust on the fireplace. A gap in the dust where something was. Married. Fabric under her fingernails, she struggled. Pictures of family, some members cut out. Bruises from a few days ago. Small pieces of fabric in her mouth. Book on the table._

"She's called Sandra Buckley. Her daughter found her this morning."

"How is her daughter?"

"After calling us, she was asked if she was alright and she just nodded and refused any help or comfort. Said something about it'll only make it worse."

"How long has she been dead?"

"We think since last night between 8 and 8:30."

"She was suffocated. Someone pushed her down, held her arms down and another person put something over her mouth, most likely a pillow. She had managed to scratch the person who was holding her down, just enough that she ripped their shirt. She must have known the people because there's no sign of a break in. It wasn't a robbery gone wrong, laptop still there, phone in her bag, purse on the table, wedding ring still on. They didn't arrive just to talk, they planned it. She could have known something or had something that they didn't want her to. She didn't know that they'd arrive or she'd have made an effort. One thing **is **missing, it was on the fireplace, and it had been there for a long time because of the dust. She didn't dust her fireplace and there's a gap. Square, so she must have had a box that had something important inside it."

"Thanks Sherlock, we'll try and identify the fabrics and find out what was there." Lestrade walked out.

"Come on Watson."

"I'm not a dog."

"Watson…"

"Fine"

"What **was** the book?"

"A Shakespeare play, Othello."

"What page was it on?"

"Last page I think."

"Weird."

"What do you mean?"

"It's probably nothing. Any ideas on how you're gonna find out?"

"Not yet."

"Right then," she stood up "I'm gonna make some tea."

"Ok. I'll be in my room."

"Holmes" Watson opened the door a bit "Lestrade is here again."

"Alright."

"You were right, the fibres in her mouth were from a pillow that was on her bed and the ones under her fingernails were from someone's shirt. We still don't know what was on the fireplace"

"Lestrade, I'll need to question the girl."

"Sandra's daughter? But she just saw her mother dead."

"And didn't seem shook up about it. So?"

"Fine, if it'll help."

"Watson…"

"I know. Coming."

The girl, Dalia, was sat in the room and was on her phone.

"Hello Mr Holmes, Miss Watson" she smiled at us when we walked in "Is this going to be long? My dad is coming home soon."

"It's not going to be long. We just have to ask you a few questions."

"You don't **have **to, or else Lestrade would have been in here with Donovan and questioned me. You two are here because you **want** to question me so that you can progress with the investigation of who killed my mum. Am I correct?" She looked up slightly.

"Yes. Did you hear anyone in your house yesterday?"

"Apart from Mum, Dad, Grandma Verity, Granddad Jack, My dad's friend and Uncle Dale. No. Grandma Verity and Granddad Jack always visit on Wednesdays and Sundays and Dad's friend comes round for a chat occasionally. It was a bit weird that Uncle Dale came round, he and my Dad haven't been talking for four months so it was a bit of a surprise, I was sent to my room when he arrived but I could hear my Dad yelling at him and telling him to leave."

"Has anything weird been happening recently?"

"Well, my Dad has taken a sudden interest in what I've been doing at school. Before you ask, I've been learning about Shakespeare plays, most recently Hamlet. We're doing a play in two days, I'm Ophelia. I even made all the costumes. Mum was meant to be there but I guess that it'll just be Grandma Verity and Granddad Jack."

"Had your mum been acting weird?"

"Not really, she was out of the house a bit more, she was never in the same room as Dad for more than ten minutes and she had taken more visits this month to my Aunt Carmen."

"What was on the fireplace that is now missing?"

"Umm… Mum's box of jewellery that Dad got her"

"Who were the people in this picture that have been ripped out?" I pushed a picture across the table.

"Uncle Dale and Mum. I don't know why they would be ripped out, that was the last time we saw my Grandma Dana. Is that all or are there some more questions?"

"That's all for now."

"Thanks. Miss Watson, is it ok if I have your e-mail? In case I have some more things to tell you later."

"Umm… sure." Watson wrote her e-mail on some paper and handed it to Dalia.

"Thank you" Dalia smiled again and walked toward the door "Oh, before I forget. If you want to talk to my dad, it's better if you ask him tomorrow at 6:50 PM. He goes to work at 5 O'clock in the morning and normally doesn't return until 6 at night from Monday to Friday. He left this morning, thinking that mum was going to wake me up so he didn't check on her. He works quite far away, that's why he isn't here now, plus he's sure that I'll be safe because of the coppers. If I can think of anything else, I'll just e-mail Miss Watson."

"Wait, one last thing." Watson spoke up "You didn't seem shaken or upset that your mother had been killed, why?"

"I knew that it had to be Mum that they got first. I wasn't shaken because they've sent us pictures of people that have been killed in more gruesome ways"

"'They'? What do you mean?"

"The two men that killed mum. They threatened mum and then me when I found out about them. I don't know who they are but if I find out, I'll tell you." she walked out of the room.

"Dalia was very helpful. We just have to find out who 'they' are and then that'll be it." I started to try and get into Sandra's e-mail.

"It can't be **that **easy." Watson shook her head "There must be something else. I mean, why would they threaten a 14 year old girl and her mother but the only person the mother was avoiding was her own husband?"

"Watson, you're thinking too much into it. Maybe Sandra and her husband were just having an argument."

"Yea, I'm still not convinced though." Watson's computer beeped and she ran to it "It's Dalia, '_Miss Watson, Mr Holmes. Mum's password is DaliaDimond; don't ask me why, it just is. BTW they used different e-mail addresses but you can try and track them. Hope this helps. From Dalia Buckley._' Does that help? Holmes?"

"Yea, I've just got into the emails. They all have links to newspaper pages online."

"What are they all about?" Watson walked up behind me " '_Mother of two killed by her husband. Harriet Duckworth was found, dead, by her five year old son. She was strangled by her husband, Garry, after he found out that their daughter wasn't his. Mrs Duckworth had an affair with her husband's brother and fallen pregnant with her second child. The secret had been kept for 1 year until Garry found letters from his brother that had been sent to Harriet. One letter said 'I know that Felicity is mine and I __**will**__ take her away from you and Garry if I don't see her every week'._' Are they all like this?"

"Looks like it. '_Wife and mother of one found stabbed in an ally.'_ Her husband did it. '_Cheating wife found dead in a swimming pool along with her only child_.' Her husband killed her and the child that he thought was his. It seems that they were saying that she cheated on her husband and she'd pay."

"Well, she did pay. But the last one '_Girl found dead. A 12 year old girl has been found in her bed, she was killed by her mother after the girl's dad found out that his wife had cheated on him and that the girl wasn't his._' Do you think that was one of the threats to Dalia?"

"Maybe. Ask her if she had any e-mails off the people."

"Fine."

"Are you doing it?"

"Yes."

"Have you done it?"

"Yep."

_5 minutes later_

"Got a reply. '_Yea, Mum told me to delete them but I archived them. Here are the links_' Look Holmes." There were pictures of children, dead, and there were more newspaper links "Why would they want to threaten a girl like Dalia?"

"I don't know, but it's got a whole lot more difficult."

_The next day_

"HOLMES!"

"YEA?"

"GET 'ERE"

"COMING!"

" Look, I got this e-mail from Dalia last night, only just realised that I got it. '_I have to keep this brief. Can you come round please? My dad is here so you can question him. I need to tell you something but I can't tell you via e-mail._' Should we go round?"

"We have to. You call Lestrade and tell him briefly what's happened."

"Doing it." She called him "Lestrade, we're going to Dalia, she knows something important… What? But I just got her e-mail last night. Yea, I read it this morning. But she can't be… yea, I'll tell him. Bye."

"What is it?"

"It's Dalia, she's dead."

"She can't be!"

"She is. Drowned in the bath."

"What?!"

"She was dressed up in her Ophelia costume and held under water in her bath. Obviously 'they' didn't want her to tell us whatever it was."

"Did she send anymore emails?"

"I think so, let me check." she ran over to the computer "Only one, a video link."

"Watch it."

"OK."

Dalia appeared on the screen _"Miss Watson, Mr Holmes, if you're watching this then I'm probably dead. I'm sorry I sent the previous e-mail so late. You still need to question Dad, now more than ever. I'll tell you one thing; Mum did __**not**__ cheat on Dad, 'They' killed her because they thought that mum cheated. My password for the rest of my videos that I couldn't send you is 'Ophelia'. 'They' couldn't guess it because they thought I'd make it something stupid. The other videos are about how I found out who 'they' are. I can't tell you who 'they' are because one of them is downstairs. I know that Mr Holmes won't care that I'm dead, if he does it's only because I had important information but Miss Watson, don't be upset that I'm dead. I deserved to die, I'm Ophelia and Ophelia deserved to die because she believed the lies. So, for the last time goodbye Miss Watson, Mr Holmes."_ She smiled and turned the camera off.

"What did she mean 'deserved to die'? She didn't deserve to die! Whoever told her that must be mad!"

"Watson, calm down. We **have** to get the other videos. Let's go."

"Fine. I'll just check something"

"Right, call me when you're coming round."

"I will."

_Jolie POV_

"_Miss Watson, even though I don't know you, I know you enough that you let Mr Holmes walk out while you watched this. I did deserve to die. Ophelia believed the lie that Hamlet loved her and I believed the lie that my Dad would protect me and Mum. You __**must**__ tell Mr Holmes that Dad and Uncle Dale didn't get along because my dad thought that Mum had cheated on him with Uncle Dale and that I wasn't his, I was Uncle Dale's. He had a DNA test and it said I __**was **__my dad's and not Uncle Dale's but he was still convinced that Mum had cheated on him. Now you know why __**she**__ died but not why __**I **__died. I guess that I died like Ophelia did because mum died like Othello's wife did, suffocation. I guess that I was killed because I knew too much and was too clever for my own good. It's weird isn't it? Hearing a girl guessing why she was murdered. Thank you Miss Watson, for listening to me __**and **__for helping Mr Holmes find out who killed my Mum and me. Now is the last time I'll say goodbye." _She smiled again and turned off the camera.

I got out my phone "Holmes, I'm on my way. She left another video for me."

"_What did it say?_"

"I'll tell you when I get there."

"_Alright"_

"What did she say? In the other video."

"I wrote some of it down. Let's see what the other videos say."

"_I'm gonna cut straight to the chase, you couldn't save me from getting killed. No amount of police officers could have saved me or stop it form happening. The murderer was someone I could trust, that Mum could trust. I hate him for what he did. Everyone said he was a kind boy and couldn't hurt anyone. Now look where it's got us. Me __**and **__Mum dead. Now Mr Holmes, even Watson could guess who killed us. Well, one of them. Oh, no offence Jolie. It's just that… even I could guess who it was, just by my mum's behaviour and the news articles that 'they' sent to her"_

"Her dad killed her." Holmes started walking round "how come I couldn't guess it before?"

"_You didn't guess it because the few times you did see my dad, he seemed cut up about Mum dieing. He's a good actor, he helped me with my play… I won't be able to do my play. I spent ages on the dress and now it's going to waste. Sorry, I bet that seems creepy. I know that I'll die or you wouldn't be watching this. The only reason I thought that Holmes would ask why he hadn't guessed it was because he seems like he would be frustrated that he hadn't guessed. I'm sorry for that." _she smiled weakly _"My next video, I think I'll have found out who the second person was. I won't cry. When I get killed, I won't struggle or cry. There won't be any traces of a struggle. I'll be in my Ophelia dress so that one part of it will be true." _She laughed a bit and turned the camera off.

"Watson, are you alright?"

"Yea. It's just, she was brave and didn't try and tell us that she was in danger, she actually thought that she deserved to die."

"_Watson, don't cry. I know that you will be close to crying after seeing my last video, I was. I know who it is, the other person. It's my Dad's best friend Henry Mathews, he believes very strongly that people who commit adultery should be killed. My mum didn't cheat, she wouldn't do that to Dad, she loved him too much. Whatever Dad says, try and see if he's lying. He's a good actor but every actor has a weakness, try and mention my videos and then compare his true reaction to the fake one that he had done previously. This'll be my last proper video. I'll send the next one to you Watson and Mr Holmes of course. The other one will be just to you, you'll send Holmes out to see these videos and he won't protest. Got to go, Dad's about to walk in. I'm sorry that it couldn't be any longer." _She turned the camera off and a picture came up, it was of a bee and there was text across the top 'Bee happy, don't bee sad'

"Childish picture." Holmes was about to walk out

"She **was** a child. She didn't act like it but she was a child." I stood up and looked at him "hadn't we better call Lestrade? We're in the same house as a murderer."

"Fine, you call Lestrade, I'll try and distract Dalia's dad." Holmes walked out.

"Lestrade. We know who killed them. Come to the Buckley's house now."

"_Fine, who was it?"_

"I'll tell you when you get here."

"How are you?"

"My wife and Daughter were just killed! How do you think I feel?"

"Well.."

"Holmes that was a rhetorical question." I stepped in "Has he been a pain?"

"Just a bit."

"A bit? Wow Holmes that must be the least of a pain you've been… ever?"

"Shut it Watson."

"So, Mr Buckley…"

"Call me Simon."

"Ok, Simon, did you know that Sandra and Dalia were getting threatened?"

"What? No I didn't."

"Did you know that Dalia had videos about who she thought the two people were?"

"No"

"Or that she sent me and Holmes two videos before she was killed?"

"She sent you videos? Of what?"

"She said that she knew she was about to be killed and she gave us a few hints as to who it was that killed her and Sandra. But one of the videos that we just saw, she actually named one of the members and gave us a big hint of the other." the doorbell rang.

"Umm, I'll just get that." Simon stood up and went to the door.

"Can I see Jolie and Sherlock?"

"Are you Lestrade?"

"Yes, I was told to come round here."

"Umm, sure, come in." Lestrade walked into the room, followed by Simon.

"Sherlock, Jolie. Why were we called over here?"

"Well we found out who killed Sandra and Dalia." Holmes spoke up.

"Yes?"

"Two people were threatening Sandra and Dalia, not very well because Dalia got the hints and kept videos, she sent two of them to us before she died. The only people that could have been in the house at the time of Sandra's death were Dalia, but she was getting threatened like her mum was, Simon and Henry. Sandra was killed because Simon thought that her and his brother Dale were having an affair and that Dalia wasn't his child. Dalia was killed for two reasons, Simon thought that she wasn't his and the second reason, she was too clever. He had previously said that anyone who believed lies deserved to die, so Dalia accepted that she had to die."

"Watson. Are you ok?"

"Yea, I'm fine. So, did they get Mathews?"

"He denied it but when they searched, they saw a shirt of his had been scratched and it matched the fibres under Sandra's nails."

"They watched the videos didn't they?"

"Yes, they have proof that Simon and Henry killed Sandra and Dalia."

"What did Simon say about it?"

"That he didn't understand why Dalia didn't struggle until he saw the video. You didn't see all the videos. One of them, she apologized for not telling us, said that if she had told us, we would have saved her, the video wouldn't have been sent and we wouldn't have found out that Henry Mathews had helped kill Sandra."

"We would, we would have questioned her and found out. She didn't need to die."

"I know but it's too late now."

_**AN: **__I HATE MYSELF! feel free to hate me for this chapter *Goes to curl up in the corner*_

_Bye bye, I'll go and hate myself even more :'(_


End file.
